


One Hell of a Mother

by Bittersweet_Musings



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Family Drama, Happy Mother's Day!, Inspired by Kuroshitsuji, Other, Sebastian Michaelis's Wedding, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:35:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24110656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittersweet_Musings/pseuds/Bittersweet_Musings
Summary: After getting engaged to a woman his mother doesn't approve of, Sebastian Michaelis gets a surprise visit from his enraged mother.
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Lady of the House

**Author's Note:**

> A few background notes: Sebastian comes from a family of proud, old-money billionaires. Fed up with their tendency to try and run his life, he takes it upon himself to start his own Technology PR Firm, Black Ties Inc., and gets engaged to a life-long childhood friend who's reputation is far from modest as a lingerie model.

Her blood curdling scream could be heard for miles. The high pitch tone of the woman’s voice was like a sudden stab to the chest which made nearly every servant that heard drop what they were doing immediately and rush to the scene. Half of them were expecting to see more blood, but to their disappointment, there was none. Instead, they came to witness the lady of the house in a fully enraged state of mind.

“Why would you put this on my desk?!” she shrieked to the poor woman clinging to her clipboard for dear life. The lady of the house punctuated her panic by throwing the high-end magazine at the assistant only for its glossy cover to be wrinkled once it hit the marble floor. 

“I-I did as I always do, madam- You love Vogue-” The scrawny woman whimpered, practically shaking in her heels. “It.. It i-is the correct issue, is it n-not?” Any trace of lively color seemed to be drained from the woman’s face as the conversation continued.

Vanity scoffed, letting a moment of silence settle between them after that utterly stupid question. “Janet…” she started, “Do you know why I love Vogue?” Her eyes narrowed down at the pathetic looking girl, her mind already mulling over whether she should be fired for her insolence. 

Her assistant, who’s name was actually Julie, opened her mouth as if to respond.. But to her panic--nothing came out. Julie was frantically attempting to craft an answer in correspondence to what her boss would want to hear. The woman’s discerning gaze was terrifying. Every passing second seemed to take her down by an inch until she felt all but three feet tall. 

“Well…?” Vanity deadpanned, her patience wearing dangerously thin. The lady’s cold composure perfectly painted her as a newly founded widow who keeps her dead husband’s body in the trunk of her car.

Julie finally managed to stammer, “B-Because the Lady of Michaelis must always be kept up to date, if not ahead, of all trends regarding the current state of industry, standing, and, or, upcoming phenomenons of the upper class--” She spat out her answer as if it came straight out of the employee handbook… which it did.

“Mmm…” Vanity hummed, not pleased with her answer, but, for once, she wasn’t entirely wrong. “No-” she stated.

At that, Julie could already picture her boss tearing her weekly paycheck into tiny shredded pieces before setting them on fire… 

“While it is indeed important that I stay up-to-date with socials, that is primarily /your/ job, is it not? What do you think I hire you for? /Looks/?” The woman laughed. “Certainly not…” She looked over Julie distastefully with a scrutinizing gaze, but continued on with nothing more pertaining to that comment. “I /set/ trends you half-wit, I do not follow them! Which is in fact why I read Vogue because it brings me joy to see the glamour that I have ascended to the public~” As Vanity spoke, her arrogance floated about her in tandem with the potent smell of Chanel No. 5 which only seemed to sour as she approached her reason of grievance. “And I most certainly do /not/ read it because I want to see that wretched whoremonger all over the front cover! We have addressed this before!”

Julie tensed with her head now hanging as she looked at her feet. “Yes Ma’am, I know…” How could she forget? The first issue of Vogue Vanity ever saw Alana on the front of made her feel so disgusted, she took a two and a half hour bath followed by an appointment with her shrink to feel fully cleansed. Since then, she has made it very clear she doesn’t want to see nor hear about any issue involving the woman. However… circumstances for this issue were a bit different. Julie leaned over to pick up the magazine off the floor. “But… I figured you would want to at least gloss it over because your son is on the front cover as well-”

Vanity’s brows tensed. “Pardon?” Turning to face the girl as she held up the magazine for a closer look, she actually took a moment, this time around, to notice it wasn’t just any man sprawled across the designer couch with the blonde. She had been so caught up in her frustration at seeing the token platinum blonde hair, she didn’t even notice that it was of anyone of importance--let alone her own bloodline. The woman’s eyes widened upon seeing the sensualized couple.

The engaged look in their eyes as they stared longingly at each other. It appeared as if their bodies were dipped in glitter with speckles of purple, gold, and black clinging to their skin and fashionable dress wear. Sebastian’s purple tie was loosened and his legs were crossed over one another lounging across the white couch. His pristine grin ever present on his face as he eyed the lady sprawled along the curve of the couch. Vanity’s eyes followed the artistic flow of the image, briefly whisking over the purposeful placement of the blonde’s body and dress.

“Oh, would you look at that…” she said nonchalantly, as if the past few minutes of rage had never happened and snatched the magazine out of the girl’s tiny hands.

Her eyes landed on two specific details of the picture. In particular, a pair of golden stiletto heels that donned her son’s feet. They matched Alana’s which only told her that this was all her doing. It made her grimace. Absolutely disgusting. Lewd even! A man that wears heels is no man at all and certainly not one of her lineage. As if that wasn’t irksome enough, upon further inspection, Vanity finally took note of what the highlights were of this specific issue: The Wedding Announcement of the Century. 

Vanity’s stomach dropped, suddenly feeling a little lightheaded. “No-” she gasped, letting the magazine hit the floor once again. Losing her footing, she reached out to balance herself against the arched doorway of her home office. “This can’t be…” she muttered to herself, feeling her sickened chest tighten. Her eyes fell shut for a moment. 

“A-Are you alright, miss?” Julie asked, hesitantly stepping forward with her arms out to catch her, however, the girl had made a grave mistake for her concerning gesture earned her a slap to the face. 

“Don’t even presume to touch me!” she snapped, quickly regaining her composure as she strutted into her office. “Fetch me a car!” she shrilled from inside.


	2. The Devil Wears Prada

Stepping out of the prestigious black town car that belonged to the famously known company Michaelis Enterprises, Vanity’s black narrow-heeled shoes clacked against the sidewalk approaching one of the tallest towers erected in London’s inner city limits. Not as tall as Michaelis Enterprises’ but impressive enough to intimidate the majority of London’s business climate leaders. Sleek and modern in fashion, the building’s black mirrored walls were not only good looking, but energy efficient as well. Vanity stopped in her tracks to check out herself, tilting her head to make sure there was not a single hair out of place amongst her high ponytail. 

All things considered, there was always one thing in the world that managed to make Vanity feel instantaneously ten times better and that was to see herself in the mirror. It was invigorating. In some ways even better than sex! Smiling at herself, she in no time felt like a million bucks which was fitting considering she was wearing clothes nearly worth double that amount. Her worries seemed to melt away within mere seconds before her attention was drawn in by a reflection of a couple of workers constructing a glossy billboard. On it was an advertisement for London Liberty Fashion Week featuring none other than her soon-to-be future daughter in law sitting on a white and gold throne decorated with red roses. Her body draped in a Grecian designer’s dress painting her out to be an elegant Greek goddess with golden leaves in her hair. A goddess Vanity knew she was not. Seeing her face again immediately made her blood boil. 

With a huff, she strode into the building, bypassing the doorman who was even shoved to the side by her personal security guards.

“I am here to see my son.” she demanded, stepping up to the front desk in which a boy mindlessly scrolling through his phone sat in a blue collared shirt.

Upon seeing a shadow cascade over the boy’s screen, he looked up and suddenly straightened his posture. His name tag read Andrew but it was of little importance to the woman as she seemed preoccupied by the minimalist decor. “Do.. you have an appointment?” he asked, with a raised brow. 

“Appointment-” Vanity scoffed, “I do not need an appointment. Do you not know who I am?”

The boy squinted a little, seeing his reflection in her over-sized designer sunglasses. He was not understanding what kind of game the lady was playing at, especially because she was giving him very little to try and guess off of. There was no help given from her vague speech, nor the way her fur coat hung off her shoulders along with the black turtle neck she wore… She looked as if she was trying to hide from someone rather than to be recognized. “Miss… I am afraid if you do not have an appointment, I cannot let you in.” He glanced toward the tall intimidating men standing behind her. 

An irritated exhale left the woman’s lips as she looked over the putrid boy. Judging by the optimism in his eyes and his freshly pressed shirt, she could tell he was probably an intern. “Let’s try this again, shall we? I am Mrs. Michaelis and I believe I do not need to make an appointment to see--” Before she could even finish her sentence, the boy overlapped her speech.

“Mrs.Michaelis!” he repeated, “Oh my god, I’m terribly sorry- Did you dye your hair??” His eyes widened as he blushed, very embarrassed by his mistake.

Vanity’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What?? What do you mean--”

“It’s just… you’re usually blonde-”

At the comment, the realization of who the boy thought she was made her skin crawl. Vanity froze. Her entire body tensing in places she didn’t even know could tense. With her hands itching to grab a hold of something and crush it, the woman’s right eye twitched behind her shades. She. Was. Pissed. Andrew could feel the tension grow between them and it made him confused. His blush darkened, but suddenly, watching Vanity ever so slowly lift her sunglasses off the bridge of her nose and onto her head, he realized very quickly- he had made a bigger mistake than he initially thought. Her eyes were eerily similar to the ones of the man that owned this business. If not for their color, then by the gaze that managed to make any one who looked into them feel as if they should want to be stepped on. 

“Listen closely, you pathetic, incompetent, degenerate. How dare you compare me to such utter garbage?!” Not being able to contain herself, Vanity reached over to grab a hold of Andrew’s collar, nearly choking him by it. She planned on instilling fear of the wrath of the devil into the poor boy. “She is not and never will be anything more than a classless homewrecker. Mark my words, I am the only current Mrs. Michaelis and it will remain so until I fix whatever nonsense has gotten into my son’s head!” Continuing on with her words, a menacingly smile crafts the lady’s lips. “So if you would, push the fucking button so I may see him and I never have to look at your repulsive face ever again-”

In no time at all, the fear instilled boy practically smashed his palm on the button allowing Vanity to disappear into the elevator.


	3. If The Shoe Fits

“What is the meaning of this?” Vanity snapped, dropping the magazine on her son’s desk. He was in the middle of hanging up a conference call when she did--earning a lidded look that, for a moment, reminded her of her husband. She inhaled quietly, her chest rising in frustration as she waited for him to hang up the phone. Once he finally did, she exhaled with much vigor. Her hands coming up to gesture in juncture with her emotions. “Please, I /implore/ you, why in the bloody hell is /my/ son wearing women's /stilettos/ on the cover of one of the most widely seen magazines in the country!?” 

Sebastian was caught off guard with her presence even after he had received the notice from Andrew. The boy sounded absolutely terrified as he tried explaining what events had occurred in the lobby. As he had described the woman in the fur coat, Sebastian quickly put two and two together. Anticipating the drama to follow, the man was trying to finish up a meeting with an investor as fast as he could, knowing his mother would be interrupting with no heedance to his actual work. 

“Nice to see you too mother, I’m glad to see those mind and body retreats are really working wonders for you…” Sarcasm laced in his voice, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

For once, she had actually caught him in a good mood. 

With the wedding announcement dropping today, he had been receiving many praises as of late in different fashions: emails, phone calls, newsletters, and of course, in-person congratulations. All of which were in awe and anticipation of the dream wedding-to-be. For hours, he had been reading texts and headlines regarding “London’s sexiest couple” and how he’s going to make the perfect groom. By now, the praises were at its peak and Sebastian was practically glowing with pride. It was enough for him to even indulge in his mother’s madness, challenging if she could damper his mood.

Meanwhile, Vanity was soaking in her son’s esteem. She had not seen him in months and it definitely showed. He seemed different, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it and quite frankly, she didn’t know herself if she wanted to. Nonetheless she grimaced at his remark. “Don’t get sassy with me, boy- Explain yourself.”

Leaning back in his chair, Sebastian folded his hands in his lap as he crossed his legs over one another, almost mocking the pose he made on the cover. “I don’t see what there is to explain…” he began, “The shoot called for the shoes and so I wore them.” The man glanced over to the cover on his desk. He admired the artwork from afar, vividly remembering the time shooting. 

Sebastian never imagined he would ever get a bucket of anything dumped on him. Much less glitter of all substances. But leave it to Alana of all people to put him into unprecedented situations and what’s more is he actually enjoyed it. His ember eyes trailed down to the golden stilettos his mother was wailing on about. He thought he pulled them off perfectly as though he could expect anything less of himself. The stilettos were actually a personal request to the issue from Alana because she wanted the image to reflect a little more personality in their excitement as a couple. Her idea was that they were stuck on cloud nine so their feet could hardly touch the ground. What better way to reflect that than to put her fiance in heels? Although Sebastian had other suspicions she was just pulling strings in respect for his personal love for stilettos. That being said, it was practically a given his mother would loathe the idea. 

“I thought they looked rather charming, didn’t you?” Sebastian’s smirk widened seeing the pent up frustration on Vanity’s face. 

“You are… unbelievable.” the woman scoffed, shaking her head. She continued pacing back and forth across the room trying to belittle the smug aura radiating off his now grinning face. “Is this really what you want?? To throw your life away being seen with…” Vanity paused, tense at the thought of someone overhearing their conversation as a group of employees passed by the closed door of his office. For someone to know that she loathed the engagement so early on would be social suicide. She must upkeep her image as the loving and supportive mother. The last thing she wants is for someone to suspect the engagement ended because of her. In doing so, she acted quickly associating a certain blonde with the shoes she so hated. “...with a pair of trashy, overly priced, hooker heels? Did you know they aren’t even real gold? Surely you have not thought this all the way through-”

Sebastian looked on at his mother in silence for a moment. Out of all things stated in the issue, /that/ is what she was most worried about? A part of him was actually not that surprised given his mother is known to block out details she does not care for, even major ones. She then continues to act as if it never happened. But just in case there were more to words than she would lead on, Sebastian humored her talk about the stilettos. “...I am pretty certain I have put more than enough thought into this decision. They are shoes. Not that my footwear should be any of your concern to begin with…” He responded with a raised brow. 

“I refuse to stand idly by why you make a fool of yourself like this!” his mother shrieked. “If they are not pure gold, they are not worth the touch of your skin!” She protested with a firm tone. Honestly, how could he do this to himself. It was beyond her imagination. Her tacky ways deserve far less than a fourteen carat diamond ring. 

“While it is… touching… that you care so much about my feet, mother. If I did not like them, I would have rejected wearing them.” His smirk faltered a little as her raised voice sparked the deeply rooted resentment he has for it. “And for the record, just because they weren’t pure gold doesn’t necessarily mean they are of any less class. They are still gold. Do you know how heavy wearing gold stilettos would be? It’s impractical.”

“Are you saying you couldn’t handle it?”

Sebastian scoffed, “Of course I could handle it, but it wouldn’t be very comfortable for anyone else-”

Vanity strode towards Sebastian’s desk and slammed her fists down upon the dark wood out of vexation. Her coat slipping off her shoulders. “Well we don’t settle for what’s comfortable for anyone else!” she growled, “We go far beyond what’s expected! We make people wish they could pull off what we can and you are not doing that by…!” Vanity paused. Catching herself about to break the analogy. “...wearing these heels.” she sighed. The woman’s shoulders remained tensed, glaring straight at her son in disappointment. “There are so many others to choose from! Pumps, wedges, lace-ups! God forbid, but even /men/ shoes!” She rolled her eyes, once again shaking her head. Vanity then slowly brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose, muttering: “..Of course the press would have a field day with it, and we would need you stay closeted for discriminatory disclosure, but honestly darling, it is much better than this.”

By now, it was clear that his mother was not talking about shoes anymore. He was vaguely curious as to where she was going with the men’s shoes comment, but as she continued on he quickly caught up. He didn’t know what was more disturbing, the fact his mother would rather have him marry a man, or that if he were to marry a man instead of a woman, she would want him to still hide it. There was no winning. “Are we… still talking about the shoes? Or would you like to say what’s really on your mind?”

The anxious mother could hardly stand it anymore.“Eugh- Of course I’m not talking about the damn shoes! Why didn’t you tell me you got engaged??” With new purpose, Vanity looked to Sebastian with hurt in her eyes. “Don’t you owe me that much as a mother? Do you know how mortifying it is to have to make up excuses to people to hide the fact you didn’t tell me?” The amount of phone calls she received on the car ride over was sickening. She couldn’t brag without feeling grief-stricken. 

“Enough- I don’t want to hear, nor have the time to deal with your self pity.” Sebastian demanded, now sitting up in his desk as he looked towards his computer. 

Talking over him, Vanity continued with her self-indulgent woe-ing. “Hell! Perhaps if you had enough gawl to tell me when you were even thinking about getting engaged, I could have stopped this sooner-” A small hint of spite pierced through the intention of her words. “But no, instead, I find out with..” she sighed, “with the rest of the general public!” She could feel her hurt begin to morph into anger. 

If there was one small thing Sebastian could change about his mother, it would be her tendency to talk over him. “I said /enough/.” Sebastian finally snapped, a bit of a growl rising in his tone, then allowed for a small pause so he could regain his composure before actually chuckling. He rolled his eyes. Of course, how could she think any more highly of him, even when his parents raised him to never fear anything. “You really thought that I didn’t tell you because I was /afraid/ to?” Sebastian eyes met Vanity’s, deadpanning “You are fucking moronic-”

Vanity’s eyes widened in shock. “Sebastian! Language!” she gasped, “I am your mother!”

“Oh please, so now you are my mother? Of course, when it’s convenient for you~ Or something doesn’t go the way mummy dearest wants it to~” The man chuckled inwardly, but all he could focus on was the growing spite he had for the woman spreading throughout his chest. Turns out she was able to dampen his mood after all. Sighing out softly, he suddenly felt his back pocket buzz. “If you came here to try and convince me to cancel the wedding, you can save your breath. Nothing you say will change anything.” 

Vanity watched as Sebastian’s attention pivoted to the phone he pulled out of his back pocket. From where she was standing she could vaguely make out what appeared to be a selfie of him and Alana at a cat themed restaurant on his lock screen. Opening up his messenger app, his eyes followed along the text of the message. A small smirk crafting lips. His shoulders untensed and he began typing a reply. The quiet tapping effect resounding in the silence between them. Vanity was suddenly pulled into a recent memory of a similar interaction with her husband. She was standing in his office between Leonidas’s large desk and two guest chairs. It was the first time she saw her husband even obscurely present any other emotion other than anger or impassive within the last few months. She had no idea who he was texting and what made it even more unbearable was the fact it wasn’t her that elicited that reaction. It made her angry. More than she would care to admit, but if there was anything she hated more than this marriage, it was being ignored. 

“Eugh!” she burst, springing back into reality. Taking a step forward, she quickly leaned over Sebastian’s desk and grabbed his phone. The conversation still open. “Who are you texting?!” Reading the contact name [Kitten] with a wedding ring emoji next to it, Vanity’s face scrunched up in disgust. Her lewd influence on him was gag-inducing. She didn’t even take time to read the text before smashing it against the corner of his desk, shattering the screen to the point some parts of the phone fell to the ground. “I. Hate. Her. I wish- she would just-” All of her composure seemed to unravel at once as she brought down death and destruction upon the thousand dollar phone. “Be gone! She is ruining you! Can’t you see it?? You are blind, Sebastian! This engagement will be the end of everything!” Little did she know she really meant her. The beatings she would get for letting this relationship get so far. Her anger did little to mask the fear in her eyes as she glared up at Sebastian grabbing her wrist.

The sight of Vanity crushing his phone against the desk, screeching about how she wished for Alana--for his fiancee--to disappear set something off inside him. Family be damned. No one was to threaten his wife-to-be in such a way, even if it was all in theatrics. He stood tall, glowering down at her, his rage and disgust at her actions barely contained in his expression, but they showed through in his eyes that bore into Vanity’s. That terrible sneer was another reaction that was reminiscent of his father. “The only one blind here is /you/, mother.” he growled, fed up with her tantrum. His strong grip on her wrist tightened, but not enough to leave a bruise. “You are behaving like /a child/.” the man spat, looking down on her with a detesting expression. His mother’s hurtful gaze did nothing to stirr any sort of pity inside of him. He felt nothing. “Now leave before I have security escort you out.” Tossing her arm away from him like a piece of rubbage, Sebastian turned to walk around back to his seat.

With a final huff, Vanity dropped the remnants of Sebastian’s phone onto the ground. “You are making. The biggest. Mistake of your /entire/ life.”

“I think I’ll take my chances~” her son responded, his confidence glinting in eyes as he stared at her from across the room. 

“This isn’t over.”


End file.
